


H is for Hero

by sodun



Series: Rarl A to Z [6]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Bars, Drinking, Flirting, M/M, carl gets hit on by a bar creep, nightclubs, ron saves him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 23:18:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7457581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodun/pseuds/sodun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carl gets hit on by a bar creep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	H is for Hero

**Author's Note:**

> the drinking age in BC, Canada where I live is 18 ok
> 
> also if you have suggestions for J leave them in the comments will give you credit i have one but im sort of stuck on what to write for it
> 
> Part 8/26 of the Rarl A to Z series.

Carl didn't often go out to clubs. Being in his first year of university, he was focused on his studies. Occasionally he would tag along to house parties with his friends, but he never stayed long. Parties were too loud for him.

On this night, however, Carl's friends had convinced him to go to a bar with them. Being 19, he could finally legally go into clubs, so why not do it? He was promised it would be fun, and he took his friend's word for it.

2 hours later, Carl found himself left alone at the bar of some random night club, lazily stirring whatever fruity drink his friend had ordered him before leaving. Taking a sip through the straw, he eyes the crowd of sweaty people grinding desperately against other sweaty people and thinks about all the places he'd rather be at that moment. The vibrations of the electronic dance music being played pulse up his spine and into his brain, settling as a dull ache at the base of his skull. He wants to be back on campus in his bed.

As he watches the cluster of intoxicated twenty-somethings, Carl sees a man heading for the seat next to him at the bar. He doesn't pay much attention to the fact that he's the only one seated at the bar currently, and this guy could sit anywhere else but chose the spot right next to him. At least, not until the guy starts talking to him.

"Hey baby," He greets, watching Carl with possessive eyes. "What's a cute little thing like you doing here all alone?"

Sighing quietly, Carl glances up at the man. Tan, blond, lightly muscled, dressed a little _too_ fancy for this club. To Carl, he seemed like the kind of person who would take you home, ask for your number before you leave the next morning and never call. However, he decides to humor him. What's he got to lose?

"My friends abandoned me," He says, taking another sip of his drink.

"Aww, that ain't fair," Says the blond, sliding forward so he's barely seated on the stool and their knees are touching. "Why don't you come home with me then?"

"My friends are still here. Just not with me." Carl says, keeping his voice monotonous.

Smirking, the man places his hand on Carl's thigh. "So? Come back to my place, it'll be fun. I can make you feel so good."

A spike of panic shoots through the brunet's veins, immediately regretting his decision to engage this guy. "No, I'd really rather stay here-"

"I'd rather you come with me." The stranger says, effectively cutting Carl off.

He shifts, trying to put as much distance between himself and the blond as possible. As Carl opens his mouth to say no once again, he feels an arm wrap around his waist and thanks his lucky stars that his friends finally came back.

However, when he looks beside him, it's definitely _not_ one of his friends.

A tall, pale, brunet boy stands beside him, an annoyed look on his face. Carl couldn't deny that this guy was good looking. He felt a sudden flower of nervousness bloom within him, partially because Carl didn't know who he was, and partially because he was in the arms of a very attractive boy.

"I would appreciate it if you left him alone." This attractive stranger says, glaring daggers at the blond.

"And who are you?" Asks the creep, raising an eyebrow.

The brunet sighs, tightening his hold on Carl. "His boyfriend."

Carl manages to keep a straight face through his shock. Boyfriend? This guy has no idea who Carl is, and he's calling him his boyfriend? It's then that he realizes that maybe the nameless brunet could hear their conversation and was trying to get him out of that.

And it works. The blond raises his hands in surrender, getting up from his seat and disappearing into the crowd.

"Um, hi?" Carl greets, turning to look up at his 'boyfriend'.

"Hello." He responds, releasing Carl from his hold. "I'm Ron."

"Carl," Responds the teen, "What was the about."

"Oh, you just looked uncomfortable. Thought you could use some help." 

"My hero," Carl mumbles, returning his attention to his drink.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ron turn and start to walk away. Carl feels a little guilty for not thanking him.

"Wait," He calls after him, watching as Ron stops and turns to face him. "Thank you."

Ron smiles, giving Carl a friendly nod before returning to a table not too far away where a group of guys around his age were sitting.

When Carl finally finds his friends, and they set off, he sees Ron across the bar. He raises his hand, giving a small departing wave to the boy. 

He winks in return, and Carl spends the rest of the night thinking about his hero.


End file.
